Saving Grace
by BattleandRomance
Summary: Original Planned ending for my series. Johns fading


I don't own Thunderbirds or 'A Place called home' that belongs to Kim Richey.

Okay. I had originally planned this story as the end to my series, but since people said in their reviews for risk assessment they wanted a happy ending. I felt guilty. So after much deliberation I wrote an alternate ending: 'Come Home' which I've posted today along with this one.

Saving Grace

Uniform on, hair tidy, voice calm

Communications are Go!

Alan's last stint up here lasted two weeks. Before the whining and complaining became too much. So here I am again answering calls and relaying information. Bored to the point of despair. The Judge is probably sentencing someone. The forensic Psychologist processing something and the Marine Biologist recording data.

I'm fading. Fading into nothing. My life slipping slowly away. And I do nothing. I have composed letters to my friends. Long since squared everything. Sorted my will.

As the call ends I smile softly. I have one last letter to write. To the Forensic Psychologist. My pen sketches letters and words in the air above it before I put it to the sheet. I tell her I loved her. I love her. Her figure, her curves, her eyes, her voice. I am sorry but I have to go. Live your life.

I seal it in an envelope, and write her address, and stamp it. I add it to the pile; some addressed and stamped some with just a name.

I slip out of the chair and change into casual clothes. I then return and sit on the floor. I stay my eyes growing heavy, my breathing slowing. My lips twitch into a smile before I glide completely to the floor and rest. I can hear her song. Her soft melodic tone whispering in my ear.

_Well, it's not hard to see_

_Anyone who looks at me _

_Knows I am just a rolling stone_

_Never landing anyplace to call my own_

_To call my own_

_Well, it seems like so long ago_

_But it really ain't you know _

_I started out a crazy kid_

_Miracle I made it through the things I did_

_The things I did_

_Someday I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow_

'_Til then, I travel alone_

_And I make my bed with the stars above my head_

_And dream of a place called home_

_I had a chance to settle down_

_Get a job and live in town_

_Work in some old factory_

_I never liked the foreman standing over me_

_Over me_

_Oh I'd rather walk a winding road_

_Rather know the things I know_

_See the world with my own eyes_

_No regrets, no looking back, no goodbyes_

_No goodbyes_

_Someday I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow_

'_Til then, I travel alone_

_And I make my bed with the stars above my head_

_And I dream of a place called home_

I received a letter a few days ago. From the Starman. I broke my heart to read those words. Each like a tiny knife to my stomach.

He told me about the thunderbirds. Where he had been. That he loved me.

I saw the pathologists report. The tumor he had didn't kill him. He just gave up. I phoned the Marine Biologist who was in tears. The judge even broke down.

The starmans funeral was on that god forsaken island. Buried there as well.

It wasn't till the reading of his will we knew otherwise. Not a penny to his father or brothers. His estate was ours. He also stated his wish to not be buried on the island. The Judge did his bit and the starman was exhumed and buried where he wanted to be. When the family tried to contest the starmans estate should go to them the Judge took them to the cleaners.

We built a small memorial on the Alaskan slopes.

We got on with our lives. I'm dedicated my second book to the Starman. The first part of my trilogy, dedicated to the judge was highly successful. The third is for the Marine Biologist the glue for our little group. She won the Nobel Prize, dedicated to us.

The judge continued his work in the Law and for cancer charities.

I worked with people, helping them to get the best out of life. I used my books as a platform to try and help. The money in the Starmans estate went to a building for space and the stars, telescopes, displays all in his name.

I am the last of the quartet. I feel I may pass soon, go where they are now.

We have no children, just protégées. I hope they will carry on our legacies. Their estates have fallen into mine. The money goes to our chosen causes. The starmans brothers have kids who run IR.

In death I believe peace is found.

The starmans father is long dead and left his clone to run IR. I'm guessing Thunderbird 5 is on automatic rotation.

The Judge died at forty five. Victim of a vengeful convict.

The Marine Biologist was killed in a car accident aged fifty.

The Starman died alone a thirty two.

I've made it to sixty six. And I fear the injuries I've sustained over the years may claim my life. 

Last year I visited the memorial the names of the Marine Biologist and Judge engraved sixteen and twenty one years ago respectively.

The Starman passed thirty four years ago almost to the day. The lives of my three friends claimed well before their times.

At eighteen all freshmen in Uni we met. And here I am alone. Our live dedicated to good.

I found myself singing 'A Place called Home' more frequently over the years. It made me feel a little better. I left our combined estates in the hands of our protégées. All friends like we were so many moons ago.

Unmarried, childless. Our deaths saving grace from a life of imbalance.

Lives deserving cut short. Dreams never fulfilled. Forever alone.

_Someday I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow_

'_Til then, I travel alone_

_And I make my bed with the stars above my head_

_And I dream of a place called home_


End file.
